Confrontation
by ack1308
Summary: Taylor's encounter against Lung doesn't go very well at all. She wakes up in hospital, and Armsmaster has some questions.
1. Chapter 1

**Confrontation**

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><p>Disclaimers:<p>

_1) This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow. Thanks for letting me use it._

_2) I will follow canon as closely as I can. If I find something that canon does not cover, then I will make stuff up. If canon then refutes me, then I will revise. Do not bother me with fanon; corrections require citations._

_3) I welcome criticism of my works, but if you tell me that something is wrong, I also expect an explanation of what is wrong, and a suggestion of how to fix it. Note that I do not promise to follow any given suggestion. __ Posting a negative review from an anonymous account is a good way to have said review deleted._

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><p>Part One: Introduction<p>

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><p>My universe was pain.<p>

I lay on the gravel rooftop, trying to breathe without hurting myself. It wasn't going well. Each time I inhaled, the air was far too hot and stank of burning hair, and there was a stabbing pain that stopped me getting quite enough air into my lungs.

I was fairly sure I had broken bones; my costume had protected me from being eviscerated by Lung's claw-swipe, but it had done little to nothing about the sheer force of the blow. I'd been lucky not to have gone over the edge.

_This was such a fucking stupid idea._

At least my costume hadn't caught fire when his flame had washed over me. I hadn't escaped unscathed; I had felt my hair catch fire, had suffered as it burned the back of my head. There was more pain in my buttocks, down my legs, but I wasn't sure if that was due to bruises, broken bones, or burns.

I couldn't figure out why Lung hadn't finished me off; I was certainly not going to get away now. All he had to do was _step_ on me, and he'd probably crush me like a cockroach. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

The world went away for a little bit; I sank down into warm, soft, pink nothingness, where there was no pain, no giant metal-clad fire-breathing monsters about to kill me. I was fairly sure that I would not wake up again.

* * *

><p>" … e even alive?"<p>

The voice was hollow, reverberating, masculine. I wasn't alone on the rooftop, and it wasn't Lung there with me. I tried to move, tried to call for help. I might have twitched slightly; my left arm and leg were not responding appropriately. Also, moving _hurt_. Like an ironclad son of a bitch. My groan wasn't much better.

My head was turned to one side; one of my goggle lenses was smashed – _when did that happen? -_ but I could see a pair of feet in front of me. More figures, at the edge of the roof. Farther off, in some other reality, I could vaguely hear snarls and growls and roars. _Lung's fighting something, _I decided, and congratulated myself on my deductive ability.

The owner of the feet crouched; I saw pale hair framing a black domino mask.

"He's a she," a feminine voice answered, her voice raised. A girl, maybe my age. "She's hurt bad. Lung nearly killed her."

"Help," I tried to whisper. A whimper came out.

She leaned closer. "I can't help you," she whispered, "but I'll call help for you. You did us a huge favour. It's the least I can do in return."

Her hand touched my mask, lay gently on the mandible over my jaw where I wasn't bruised, wasn't burned. "Hang tight, bug girl. Help is on the way."

The world chose that moment to pull a sharp Immelmann and dive into the clouds. My eyes closed.

* * *

><p>Metal rattling on concrete woke me again. I was still lying on the rooftop, still in pain. Still couldn't move. Breathing was a little harder.<p>

_I'm dying. I'll die here._ The revelation came as not much of a shock. I'd been expecting to die ever since Lung got that hit in on me, the one that broke my bones like so many cheese sticks.

_I'm sorry, Dad. I wanted to be a superhero. I wanted to be a good daughter._

Heavy boots crunching over the gravel. A masculine voice. Not the same as the other voice. " - the hell leaves a note on a supervillain's _face?"_

A pause. "Holy Christ." The footsteps moved fast, getting louder. Heading toward me. Stopping next to me. I blinked my eyes, couldn't focus. A pause, then something was pressed to my neck. I heard soft electronic beeping.

"Okay, kid, you're alive." The voice was full of relief. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm Armsmaster. I'm going to get you out of this. Okay?"

I may have made a sound, a movement; I wasn't sure. Maybe he was just talking for the sake of talking. "Good. Right. Now just hang tight for a second, and I'll get you down from here."

_Why is everyone telling me to hang tight?_

He moved away from me. Leaving me. His voice was still audible. "Armsmaster here. Send a containment van to my GPS location, ASAP. Lung is unconscious, tranquillised, caged. He should keep till you get here. I've got someone else to bring in. Armsmaster, out."

_Armsmaster's a hero. He's not going to leave me to die, right?_

_Right?_

I faded away for a bit.

* * *

><p>When I came to, I was strapped to something and moving. I was on my stomach; something was pillowed around my face so that nothing obstructed my breathing, and I didn't bump my nose. Something clicked into place, and I stopped moving.<p>

Armsmaster held the electronic device to my neck; it beeped at him. "Vitals are down," he muttered. "Gotta move. Hang in there, guy."

_Guy?_ I wanted to protest. Admittedly, I wasn't very well developed, but that was almost insulting. But before I could formulate my words farther, the engine bellowed, and I started moving again.

_Engine?_

_Oh, his motorcycle._

I was strapped to Armsmaster's motorcycle.

We started going somewhere really fast, but after the first turn, I lost interest and passed out again.

* * *

><p>" … and that should do it."<p>

The voice was light, feminine. It sounded very slightly familiar. _Teenage girl, voice I've heard somewhere before. Celebrity?_

I inhaled, cautiously. There was no stab of pain. The air smelled of hospital.

_Which is a thousand percent better than gravel rooftop, and burning hair._

My eyelids fluttered open.

I was lying in a hospital bed, with my legs and arms suspended in the air by straps. A light cast covered my left arm, and another covered my chest. Bandages swathed my legs and right upper arm.

Beside the bed stood a doctor, a nurse, a tall armoured figure, and a shorter figure in white robes, with something red on the front.

The doctor stepped forward, his face splitting in a smile. I could pick that much up, anyway.

"Good morning, miss," he greeted me warmly. "I'm Doctor Anderson. You had us all worried for a while there."

I blinked at him, then realised that I wasn't looking through my goggles. My mask was off.

_They can see my face._

I tried to turn my head away instinctively, but it wouldn't move. Tried to bring my hand up to shield my face, but the straps wouldn't allow it. "Face," I tried to enunciate. "Mask."

"What's she saying?" asked the armoured figure … blue and silver, that had to be Armsmaster.

"Hold still," Anderson told me. "You're in a cervical collar. You had a minor fracture of … let's just say, we didn't want you moving your head around before Panacea could get a look at you." He held up what I recognised as a squeeze bottle filled with water, with a nozzle. I opened my mouth obediently, and he squirted some water into my mouth. I swallowed; it barely made it into my throat. I opened my mouth again.

After the second and third squirt of water, I was feeling a bit better. And now I could talk.

"You unmasked me," I told them. "Showed my face to everyone."

"It was kind of necessary to take your mask off," Anderson informed me. "You had third degree burns on the back of your head."

Which was why some sort of cradle was supporting my head in the air, I guessed. I was still trying to think of a way to complain about being unmasked while still being grateful about having my life saved when Anderson raised a finger. "But we didn't out you. We keep a stock of domino masks around, for cases like yours. You're wearing one, right now. And this is a restricted ward."

"Oh." Now that he mentioned it, I could feel something on my face. I felt a little silly, after the fact. But then I remembered something else. "My hair."

"Most of it's gone, I'm afraid," Anderson confirmed. "We had to cut it back so that we could treat your burns properly." And I would have none at all on the back of my head, of course.

"I … uh, thanks," I told him. "And you two, too. Thank you." I swivelled my eyes toward Panacea and Armsmaster. "For saving my life. For healing me. I … thought I was going to die."

Armsmaster nodded his helmeted head. "You very nearly did," he agreed. "And we're going to have to talk about that, later."

I looked at Panacea again. She nodded to me. "You're welcome," she told me in a soft, shy voice. "You're very lucky to be alive. Not many people can go toe to toe against Lung, and walk away."

"I didn't mean to," I told her. "I was trying to stay back, out of the way. He's got super-hearing or something, when he gets big."

Armsmaster tilted his head at that. "You're sure of that?"

I tried to nod, failed. "Absolutely."

He smiled tightly. "That's useful to know. So, are you ready to come out of those bandages?"

"Yes, please."

* * *

><p>They'd had cloths draped over me for modesty while Armsmaster was in the room. Once he stepped out, the nurse began removing the casts and bandages, while Anderson and Panacea observed. It took a little while; if I needed any convincing that I'd been badly hurt, that would have done the job.<p>

Once the cervical collar came off, I shook my head carefully, then felt the back of my skull. Bare, smooth skin. I turned to Panacea. "Will my hair grow back?"

She nodded. "Of course. There won't be any scar tissue. I can grow your hair back for you, if you want. Any length necessary."

I blinked. "You can _do_ that?"

She ducked her head slightly. "Uh, yes. I don't offer it as a service to everyone, but … well, it's that or a wig, right?"

"Yeah, and my Dad would pick up on a wig straight away," I told her without thinking.

She looked curiously at me. "Your parents don't _know?"_

I shook my head. "Nope. Not yet."

Doctor Anderson was holding out something to me. "Uh, miss, I believe this is yours."

I took it; it was my mask. Looking closely, it seemed to be scorched but intact, except for the shattered lens. Around the opening in the back, where my hair was to flow free, there were a few stains.

"We washed it," he told me, "but melted hair is fairly hard to get out. What's it made of? I've never seen material like that before."

I grimaced slightly at the 'melted hair' comment. "Spider silk. Black widow dragline silk, to be exact."

"Wow," Panacea commented. "Can I see?"

I handed it to her; she felt it over. "It's so smooth, so flexible. Is it very tough?"

Anderson coughed. "I'd say so. We tried to cut her out of her costume. We couldn't, even with shears. Fortunately, it wasn't that hard to find the zip. Which was when we actually discovered you were a girl for the first time, by the way, young lady." His tone was amused.

I flushed slightly. "It's not _my_ fault," I muttered.

"And nor is it," he agreed warmly. "Well now, Armsmaster wants to talk to you; do you feel up to it? Would you like us to contact your parents, or a legal representative?"

I thought about that. Contacting Dad would out me, if I hadn't already been outed. But the other … "Legal representative? Am I going to need one of those?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. I was just throwing things out there."

"I can stick around, if you want," Panacea offered. "If it looks like you need one, I can call my mom. She's a lawyer."

_Of course,_ I realised, as my brain caught up. _Panacea, New Wave, Brandish, Carol Dallon. Lawyer._

"Uh, thanks," I told her. "That would be great."

She smiled, just a little. "That's okay. I'm happy to do it."

"Well, then," Doctor Anderson told me heartily, "let's get you some clothes."

* * *

><p>"So, are you a hero or a villain?" asked Armsmaster directly. I was still in the hospital bed, this time wearing soft pyjamas, with the domino mask completing my ensemble. The bed was adjusted so that I was more sitting up than lying down. Panacea sat nearby; she had assured me that any feeling of weakness was entirely psychosomatic, but I felt weak all the same.<p>

A rolling tray table held scrambled eggs and a small bottle of juice; I sipped at the juice as I considered my answer.

"I'm a hero," I told him. "A good guy."

He tilted his head slightly. "You'll excuse me if I tell you that I saw you in your costume. You didn't look like a good guy."

That stung, especially coming from him. It was like Michael Jordan saying you sucked at basketball. "That's… not intentional," I responded, not a little defensively. "I was more than halfway done putting the costume together when I realised it was already looking more edgy than I'd intended, and I couldn't do anything about it by then."

There was a long pause. I turned my eyes from that opaque visor, toward Panacea, who gave me an encouraging nod. I glanced back at him, at his chest emblem, a silhouette of his visor in blue against a silver background, and was struck with the ridiculous thought that I had once owned a pair of underpants with his emblem on the front. _Who puts a male hero's emblem on girls' underwear, anyway?_

"You're telling the truth," he observed. It was a definitive statement, which startled me. I wanted to ask how he knew, but I wasn't about to do or say anything that might change his mind.

"Uh, yes," I agreed. "I really am."

"You're new," he went on, as though I hadn't spoken. "I haven't seen you around, heard of you. What are your powers?"

"I … powers?" I repeated. "You didn't know?"

He shook his head. "You _do_ have powers, correct?"

I nodded. "I … yes. I control bugs."

"Bugs," he repeated. "As in, insects."

"And spiders," I added. "Arachnids of all kinds. Earthworms too, for some reason. Apparently anything relatively small, with a tiny brain."

"So what part did you play in Lung's takedown, with bugs?" he asked.

I blinked. "I, uh, you don't know?" I was getting a bad feeling, but I wasn't sure why.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you," he pressed relentlessly.

"I, uh, he was talking about killing kids. So I had my swarm attack him. Drove his men off, then I had them bite him in, uh, sensitive places. Black widows, brown recluses, fire ants, browntail moths, honeybees, wasps, hornets … basically, everything I could throw at him."

I took a breath, and a drink of juice. "And then he went on fire, and it stopped working. So I went to leave. And he heard me. And jumped up on the roof. And hit me, and breathed fire all over me. And then … something happened. Someone arrived. Something big took on Lung. There was a guy with a funny voice, and a girl with blonde hair. Then you were there. And that's all I remember."

I stopped; Panacea spoke up, looking pale. "How are you restraining Lung?"

Armsmaster turned to look at her. "Tranquillisers. Why?"

"Because those venoms could have a really bad effect, when they coincide with too much in the way of tranquillisers."

"Bad effect?" I asked. My bad feeling was really jumping up and down now.

At that moment, the PA system blared to life. _"Code blue. Repeat, code blue. Cleared personnel to room four-five-three. Crash cart to room four-five-three. Code blue. Repeat, code blue."_

Panacea's eyes got very wide under her hood, and she leaped to her feet. "Gotta go," she told us.

Armsmaster was also on his feet. "That's the room they've got Lung in," he snapped. He pointed at me. _"Stay. There."_

And then he was gone also.

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><p>End of Part One<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Confrontation**

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><p>Part Two: Discussing Options<p>

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><p>The room was very quiet after they left. I thought it through; 'Code blue' probably meant something pretty drastic. Panacea was running in that direction, so she thought that she would be needed.<p>

I wondered how much trouble I would be in if Lung died of an overdose of bug venom, after he did his best to kill me. Then I decided to see if I could tell what was going on.

Even in a hospital, it was amazing to see how many bugs there really are. I left the bigger ones where they were, and moved the tiny ones around. When one of them encountered someone moving fast, it hitched a ride.

In a hospital, I discovered, people move fast for a variety of reasons. Not all of my bugs were going to the same place, or even the same floor. But enough were going to the same room, on the same floor as me, to give me the idea as to where Lung was.

Sure enough, my bugs picked up Armsmaster and Panacea, both of them distinctive enough that even the crappy eyes of a tiny insect could tell them apart from doctors and nurses. I wasn't quite sure why I was even trying to keep tabs on them; it wasn't like my bugs could do anything in this situation.

I shivered, momentarily. Despite all my preparation, despite all my self-training, Lung had nearly _killed _me. Had come within seconds of doing so. Even if he'd left me, if those other people – whoever they were – had not shown up, I wouldn't have been able to move. I would have died there, suffocated when my lungs gave out or filled up with blood, or when the infections from my burns got too much for my body to handle. I doubt I would have lived long enough to die of starvation or thirst.

It was strange, though. While that bothered me on an intellectual level, it wasn't really _affecting _me, not on a personal level. I should be curled up in a ball, catatonic, or screaming my lungs out at the sheer terror I had gone through. But I wasn't. The disquiet went through me, then went ... somewhere else. Somewhere that I could handle it a lot easier.

Giving me time to think about how thoroughly I had screwed it up.

* * *

><p>It was my own stupid fault, of course; when he climbed up on the roof, I had taken the shot too early with the pepper spray. My hand had been shaking too much, and the spray had been way off target – closer to my own face than his. I'd swung it around and tried to get him, but the spray died just before it contacted his face.<p>

I'd tried to dodge back, to get away, but for a huge guy, he moved _fast._ I never even saw the blow coming. When Lung hit me, my costume had stopped the claws themselves, but had done little against the sheer crushing _impact_ of his blow. I had been flung sideways, skidding on the gravel, feeling like a truck had just ploughed into me. Hearing your own bones break? Right up there on the 'things I never ever want to experience again' chart.

And then he'd toasted me. Breathed flame all over me. Even now, I could recall how it felt. My costume had not caught fire, had not melted. My back armour had given me some protection, I figured, but nowhere near enough. My legs were seared, even through the costume. My arms as well. My right arm was broken around that time, too. I was a little vague about whether this was when he hit me, or when I hit the roof.

And of course, he had set my hair on fire. I remembered screaming, and being able to do precious little else about it. The stink of burning hair is bad. The stink of _your own_ burning hair, the smell of your skin blistering and melting … ten times worse. Take it from me.

I will remember it until the day that I die.

* * *

><p>I was still lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, processing my mistakes, when Armsmaster and Panacea returned.<p>

Panacea put a cool hand on my forehead. "Are you all right?"

Her touch was unexpectedly soothing; it felt nice, and brought back memories from long ago, when I had been ill in bed, and my mother had cared for me. Tears prickled my eyes.

"I nearly died," I told her. My voice wasn't as level as I would have liked it, but I wasn't falling apart. "He nearly killed me. It's really hard to get my head around that."

Armsmaster peered at me. "Do you think we should call a doctor?"

"I don't think so." Panacea lifted one of my hands, and held it gently. "Huh."

"Huh, what?" I asked.

"I'd think your heart rate, your blood pressure, should be higher than this. You're still recovering from a massive trauma. It's high, you've got plenty of adrenaline in your system, but you're still well in control of yourself."

"I _am_ feeling a little bit shaky," I admitted.

"Try taking deep, slow breaths," she advised me. "You're hyperventilating, just a little bit."

I deliberately took a breath, like she told me. Unclenching my body, stretching out on the bed, giving my lungs room to expand. Immediately, I felt calmer, less stressed. "Wow, you really know this stuff."

She tilted her head. "I can't really ignore it. The human body's got all sorts of stupid loops it gets into, and I can see all of it, as soon as it starts to happen. The trick is to break the cycle and let you get back to normal operation."

"Like hiccuping," I replied.

She nodded. "Exactly. That's another one of those stupid little loops you can get caught up in. It's like when you're watching a romantic comedy, and something silly happens and you just _know_ the girlfriend is going to come in just when the boyfriend is in a compromising position with the girl next door, and she won't believe him when he says it's all innocent, and there's all this back and forth, over and over, and if she just _believed_ him, it would all be cut short."

I grinned at her. "But yeah, the plot demands it, so it happens. Yeah, I hate those too. So that's what it's like for you, huh?"

She might have rolled her eyes; I wasn't sure. "Oh god, you have _no idea_._"_

I paused. "Uh, I can't remember; have I thanked you for healing me? Because I'm really, really thankful, believe me."

She shrugged slightly. "You're welcome. It's nice to just have time to chat to someone, actually."

Armsmaster cleared his throat at this point.

"Or not," I replied dryly. "You were asking me questions, I think?" I paused. "Uh, Lung, is he okay?" Immediately I asked, I wondered why I had. I sure as hell didn't feel any fellow-feeling for him. Maybe I just wanted to be kept up to date.

Armsmaster nodded, his helmet moving visibly, even to my short-sighted eyes. "He was in bad shape until Panacea got to him. Necrosis had started. But he's stable now, they say."

"Necrosis?" I blurted. "Oh shit. I didn't mean for that to happen. I just wanted him to … well, not kill kids."

"I cleared it up," Panacea assured me. "But he'll be weak for a while."

I frowned. "Does he have to be? I mean, is it a side effect that you can't get around?"

She chuckled, lightly. "No. It's a side effect, yes, but I could have cancelled it. However, I think we could all do with having Lung not on top of his game for the time being." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Don't tell anyone."

Given that 'anyone' was standing three feet away, I figured she was joking. "Well … okay."

"I'm going to ignore that," stated Armsmaster firmly. "Now, miss, what do we call you?"

"I, uh, my name?" I stammered. "Aren't you not supposed to ask me things like that?"

"Not your _real_ name," he explained, with heavy emphasis. "Your cape name."

I swallowed. "Oh, um, that might be a problem ..."

Armsmaster tilted his head slightly. "Why?" he asked bluntly. "Are you a known criminal?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," I hurried to inform him. "Last night was my first night out."

"Then where's the problem?" he pressed.

"Um, I don't _have_ a cape name?" I confessed.

"What, really?" blurted Panacea.

I nodded, miserably. "I control bugs. Do you know how hard it is to come up with a single bug-themed name that doesn't sound dorky, or villainous, or both? Because I couldn't."

Unexpectedly, Armsmaster chuckled. "I wouldn't know. I got into the game early enough that I didn't have to worry about missing out on all of the good names."

"There aren't all that many healers out there," Panacea commented. "And I'm kinda more versatile than most of them. So I didn't have to fight anyone for the name."

"Yeah, well," I told her. "That goes without saying. You're _famous."_

She ducked her head. "Yeah, well, that comes with a downside, too. I _can_ heal people, so they _expect_ me to heal people."

I reached out, grabbed her hand. She was, I guessed, a little startled by the contact. "Hey, I think you're pretty cool in my book, okay?"

Armsmaster cleared his throat again. _"As_ I was asking … do you have a name you'd like us to use? Because I have to put _something_ down for the report. And the file we'll be opening on you."

"Um, um, um, how about 'bug girl' for the moment?" I asked. "With the understanding that it's only temporary."

"You'll pick a better sounding one later, you mean?" asked Panacea.

I shook my head. "No. I'll probably be giving up superheroing altogether. Because I obviously _suck_ at it."

* * *

><p>Even as I spoke the words, I knew that they were true. I had gone out, I had picked a fight with the biggest, baddest cape in Brockton Bay, and I had been horribly injured. Someone else had picked that moment – probably by sheer accident – to take on Lung, and had beaten him down to the point that Armsmaster had been able to capture him.<p>

_I _had nearly died.

It was a huge wake-up call, one from which I had very nearly never woken up at all.

"You _were_ woefully under-prepared when you came out," Armsmaster noted bluntly, "not to mention coming out as a solo hero, rather than as a part of a team-up. Two classic blunders, which do lead to more first-time capes dying or quitting than any other reason."

I nodded. I didn't need him pointing out my sheer stupidity to me. Hopefully, Dad hadn't called the police yet. Maybe he thought I was sleeping in or something. If I could sneak in during the day, while he was at work …

_But I was going to be a **super-hero,**_ I tried to tell myself. I _needed_ this, for there to be something that I could do, that wasn't being bullied at school, or lying to Dad at home, something that I could focus on.

But I really sucked at being a superhero. Powers, check. Costume, check. Execution, fail.

"There's another option," he suggested. "We _do_ have the Wards program." There was no judgement in his tone, no pressure. Just a statement.

I nodded; I had originally considered applying to join, but the notion of escaping the stresses of high school by flinging myself into a mess of teenage drama, adult oversight and schedules seemed self-defeating. So then I had decided not to subject myself to that, and to go the solo route.

Which had turned out _oh_ so well for me.

With the wisdom of hindsight, and as near a near-death experience could get without involving actual death, I found myself reconsidering my decision. Maybe some positive adult oversight might be a _good_ idea. It wasn't as though there'd be any bullies in the Wards, after all. And I bet myself that if I told Armsmaster about problems I was having in the Wards, something would sure as hell be done about it.

And I'd be able to be a _superhero_. With proper equipment, and backup. Peers I would actually have something in common with.

The more I thought about it, the more attractive it seemed.

"I'll do it," I told him.

* * *

><p>End of Part 2<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Confrontation**

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><p>Part Three: Costume Discussions<p>

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><p><em>[Author's Note: With thanks to <strong>Felix3D<strong> and to **Lavanya Six**, without whom this chapter would not have been written.]_

* * *

><p>Richardson lowered his glasses and looked over them at the teenage girl. "So, Taylor," he began. "Can I call you Taylor?"<p>

She didn't answer verbally, but he saw how she was avoiding his gaze, fixing on the ashtray on his desk rather than look at him directly. He cleared his throat and started again. "Taylor. Why do you want to be a Ward?"

She looked up at him, then. Her eyes were large and dark behind round-lensed glasses. Several strands of hair were hanging over her face; she didn't bother to brush them away. "So I can be a superhero." There was the faintest edge of scorn in her voice. He couldn't blame her; it had been a fairly obvious answer to the question.

_I think I deserved that. At least she's engaging me, now._

"Why do you want to be a superhero?" he prompted.

That brought her up short. Twice, he watched her open her mouth to make a reply, then close it again, words unspoken. Her gaze darted around his office, alighting on a dozen different points, not one of them being his face.

He waited patiently, schooling his features toward mild interest. His hands itched to do something to pass the time, to pick up a pen or drum his fingers on the desk, but he did neither. He merely watched her, and waited until she was ready to say what was on her mind.

When she spoke, the words came suddenly, almost violently. "I want to do the right thing. I want to help the people who can't help themselves." She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "I want to do something with my life that doesn't turn to _shit!"_

Silence fell again. Brockton Bay's newest Ward blinked a couple of times, then muttered, "Sorry for swearing."

Richardson shook his head, hiding a smile as he did so. "I've heard worse." He observed her; she had a sheepish expression on her face. He was almost certain that she had not intended to say what she had, or at that level of vehemence.

No matter; that little outburst was exactly what he'd been looking for. It was the most honest thing she'd said since she walked into his office.

"You want to be a superhero," he went on. "Not a villain, or a rogue?"

She shook her head, her expression wary. "No," she replied. "Definitely a hero." Again, she glanced away from his face.

Before she could withdraw into herself again, he spoke up. "Well, you definitely did a lot of work on that costume." A tilt of the head, inviting her to express herself. "How long did it take you to make it?"

She cleared her throat. "A-about three months, more or less. I couldn't work on it all the time, of course, going to school and stuff, and I had to start fresh a couple of times, but … yeah, I started it back in mid-January. Once I learned I had powers, and what I could do with them."

He nodded judiciously. "And a very nice piece of work it is, too. You told Armsmaster that it's made from black widow spider silk?"

Her head came up; her expression became more animated. "Yes. I use a specific type called dragline silk. It's the second strongest spider silk in the world."

He opened a folder on his desk, and pulled out a glossy eight by six photo; it showed Taylor wearing the costume after Panacea had grown her hair back. The only signs that it had even been in a fight were the scorch marks, and the shattered lens on the mask. This gave the image in the photo a strangely lopsided gaze; on one side was a staring yellow insectoid eye, while on the other was a quite human brown eye. The human eye was the one that appeared out of place.

"I have to admit, Taylor, that I've seen many costumes come through that door in my time here, with people who want to join the Protectorate or the Wards, and your costume has every single one of them beat for design and execution." He glanced up at her, over his glasses. "I'm assuming that it's all your own design, from start to finish."

She nodded firmly. "Once I figured out that my powers were bug related, I decided to go with a bug theme."

"Bug theme, indeed." He chuckled warmly. "You certainly did that." He tapped the photo with a fingernail. "I particularly like the mandibles around the jawline. It's detail, it's useful, and it makes you striking. Memorable."

She began to smile, then the expression fell off of her face again. "Armsmaster said I looked like a villain."

"Armsmaster," Richardson told her firmly, "would not know what tact was if the definition were uploaded into his helmet heads-up display." She smiled uncertainly. "However, he's not entirely unwarranted in his comment."

The smile vanished once more. "What do you mean?" she asked sharply.

He drew a deep breath. "When looking at you, and your costume, I am faced with some questions that I would really rather have answered, before we go any farther."

He tapped the photo again with his fingernail; she watched the movement, her expression unsure. "What questions?"

With the tip of his finger, Richardson circled the head of the masked figure in the photo. "You never intended to become a public figure, did you? You were always going to be in the shadows, never interacting with the public. Am I right?"

Taylor blinked, looking at the photo, then back up at Richardson. "I … uh … what makes you say that?"

For an answer, Richardson took off his glasses and tapped his eyesocket. "Eyes. People like to see them. It lets them connect with others. Your costume hides your eyes. This intimidates people, more than they are willing to let on, even to themselves."

He opened his desk drawer, rummaged around for a moment, then produced a pair of sunglasses. Putting them on made things dark as well as blurry, but it wasn't an issue.

Then he tapped his nose, and the corner of his mouth. "Nose. Mouth. People expect to see a face when they look at someone. Not seeing it makes people uneasy. It's why our troops wear full-face visors. Keeps people at a distance." Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he held it in front of his face, concealing his mouth and nose. "Do I look friendlier and more approachable like this … " He removed the handkerchief and changed out the sunglasses with his regular spectacles, " … or like this?"

Taylor nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get it. If I can't see your eyes, your face, I do feel a little threatened, a little intimidated." She indicated the photo. "That's what my mask does, huh?"

"By George, I think the young lady has it." He smiled, in answer to her tentative grin. "So, did you intend to come across as intimidating and impersonal? Or was that just the design you came up with?"

She frowned. "I think … maybe a little of the intimidation. But mainly because I didn't want anyone seeing my face, any part of it, and maybe identifying me."

The emphasis on words had been odd; the first part of the last sentence had been firm, unquestioned. But the last bit had come across as being tacked-on, an afterthought.

_I didn't want anyone seeing my face._

That was another truth; very likely, one that Taylor Hebert had not intended to let slip. Why she even felt that way was not something he was prepared to answer right at that moment, but it was clear that she had some sort of self-esteem issues.

Her hair was another matter; the mask was designed to let the hair flow out. Which would not normally have been a problem, except for Lung and his fire.

Richardson was not an expert on hair, but Taylor's dark-brown curls were well cared for. She wore it long, and she had designed the mask to show it off, while hiding the rest of her body. It was obvious to him that she liked her hair – and it was probably about the _only_ thing that she liked about herself.

He decided to shelve that matter, and to carry on with a more pressing one.

"Now, you say you spent two and a half to three months making this costume."

She nodded, readily enough. "Yeah. It was a real bear, sometimes. Dragline silk shrinks a bit when it gets wet, and I couldn't count on staying dry all the time, so I had to make it a bit oversized and then wet it down. Sometimes I got the sizes wrong. Can you imagine trying to cut Kevlar with ordinary scissors?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I imagine that you can't."

Her smile was wry. "No. I had to use metal cutting shears, and even then it took all my time. Why?"

He rubbed his chin. "It's just that … another thing I have noticed about those people who have come in with pre-made costumes, they always picked the name before even starting to put together a costume. In fact, in a lot of the cases, the name informed many choices about the costume. After all, costumes come and go, but names are what stick in the mind." He nodded to her. "In those three months, why is it that you didn't come up with a single name that you like?"

She paused; her expression became hunted once more, her gaze sliding off of his face, to seek refuge somewhere else in his office. He leaned back, folding his hands before him, seeking to project an air of harmlessness, of mild curiosity. _The last thing I want to do is push her into a corner._

The silence wore on; despite the rather excellent air conditioning, it suddenly felt to Richardson as though the very atmosphere in his office was becoming stuffy and humid. A fly buzzed across the room, turned in a complete circle, then buzzed back. He wasn't sure if she was showing off, expressing her nervousness, or wasn't even controlling it.

"I – like I told Armsmaster, I couldn't think of one," she confessed suddenly. "They were all taken, or sounded like villain names, or were just plain dorky."

"Ladybug," he suggested.

"Sounds too kiddish, and I'd have to change the colour scheme."

He nodded, conceding the point. "Swarm."

"Villain."

"Stinger."

"Taken. Missile tinker, on the west coast."

"Hm." He hadn't known that. "Hive Queen."

"Way pretentious."

"Weaver."

She hesitated. "Uh … it makes it sound like I'm more into making cloth than fighting crime."

He pushed down his glasses to give her a dry look. "Weak excuse. Buzz."

"Huh?"

"Buzz. As a name."

"Uh, sounds more like a guy's name?"

He smiled. "What, like Dragon? Shadow Stalker? Battery? Narwhal? Brandish?"

She sighed. "Okay, I get the point. Weaver's a fine name, and so is Buzz."

He nodded. "A name isn't supposed to outline everything about you. It's supposed to be a verbal shorthand that people can recognise you by. But if _you're_ not comfortable with it, that's when it's an unsuitable name. Now, you had three months to think of names. Why is it that you think that you couldn't come up with one that you actually wanted to use?"

She shook her head, looked off to the side. "I don't know."

A warm smile, to break up the gathering tension. "Well, it doesn't really matter now. We're going to have to spend a few days kicking around costume ideas -"

She half-raised her hand. "I – kind of like my costume the way it is."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Understood. And it's your right to keep it that way, if you so wish. I was just thinking we could take a bit of the edge off of it, make it a little more public-friendly. Add a little colour, a little light to it." A burst of inspiration suddenly struck him. "Maybe metallic shades, like some of the what do you call 'em, iridescent beetles. Looks cooler, and less scary."

She blinked. "I … we could talk about it, I guess."

He grinned broadly. "Excellent. We'll run computer simulations to see what it looks like before you have to make any decisions. All right?"

A nod. "Okay. We can do that."

He drew a breath. "And one more thing. We can't really have someone running around calling themselves 'the Ward with no name', so in the next few days, if you could figure out a name that fits your idea of the hero you'd like to be, I'll be glad to hear it." He skimmed a card across the desk. "My personal number. Any time of night or day. If you want to talk costume, name, or just, well, talk. I'm available twenty-four-seven."

She took the card and looked carefully at it, then tucked it into a pocket. "Thank you, Mr Richardson."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "You're welcome, Taylor. And you're a Ward, so feel free to call me Gerard." A wry grin. "Everyone else does."

A faint answering grin. "Okay." She stood. "Was that it?"

"Oh, there's more we're going to be talking about," Richardson assured her. "But that's it for today. I don't want to throw everything at you in one day."

She ducked her head. "Thanks," she murmured. "I appreciate it."

"You have a nice day now, Taylor," Richardson told her.

"I'll try. Thanks."

* * *

><p>As the door closed behind her, Richardson stretched out in his chair and sighed; a vast release of tension. Talking to Taylor Hebert had been like walking through a minefield, not being entirely certain which step was going to lead to a blowup.<p>

That there was a blowup ready to happen was something he was sure of; he just didn't know what the trigger was going to be. Although he had an idea as to the answer of the question of why she hadn't picked a name.

_She took on Lung on her first night out. If Armsmaster hadn't rescued her, she would have died._

_Maybe, on some subconscious level, she wanted to._

_You don't need a cape name if you're dead._

In neat, careful handwriting, he made a note of this, to be passed along to whoever handled Taylor's therapy. That she would need therapy, he was equally certain. The girl was _hurting._

Picking up the phone, he speed-dialled a number.

_"Gerard, dear boy. How did it go?"_

"About as well as can be expected. We talked about her costume and her name."

_"Did you cover the issue of scary bugs?"_

He sighed. "No. Not yet. I can't see her being happy to discard the majority of her arsenal."

Glenn chuckled complacently. _"Present her with the problem, and let her figure out a work-around. The girl built herself a state of the art costume using spiders. She's a problem solver."_

Richardson nodded. "You're right, of course."

_"Of course I am, dear boy. I have to go now; someone just caught one of our little darlings using unsuitable language on live TV. Best of luck with the bug girl."_

"Thanks. You too." Richardson hung up the phone, and leaned back in the chair, eyes closed.

_I think I'm going to need it._

* * *

><p>End of Part Three<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Confrontation**

* * *

><p>Part 4: Joining the Wards<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Monday, April 11<strong>

* * *

><p>I picked up the phone and dialled. It rang exactly once before it was answered. <em>"Hello?"<em>

"Hi, Dad," I responded. "It's me. Taylor. I just want you to know that I'm okay."

"_Oh thank god, Taylor,"_ he exclaimed. _"Is it really you?"_

"Yeah, Dad," I assured him. "It's really me. I'm all right. I'm not hurt." _Not any more, anyway,_ I told myself. Panacea, sitting beside me, put her arm across my shoulders and squeezed encouragingly.

"_Where **are** you?"_ he demanded. _"I've been going out of my mind with worry. When you went out last night and didn't come back … "_

I took a deep breath. "I'm at the PRT building, Dad," I told him. "I … there's something you need to know."

"_What?"_ He seemed totally taken aback by my revelation. _"Why? What's going on? Why are you there?"_

Time for the half-truth, just in case someone was listening in. "I've kind of gotten a job with them. But we need you to come in and fill out some paperwork."

"_Wait a second," _he protested. _"You're only fifteen. What did they hire you for? And why out of the blue like that?"_

He was asking way too many questions. "It's uh, a kind of internship," I temporised. "But we really need you to come on in. Look, gotta go, see you when you get here, bye."

I put the phone down, then clasped my hands in front of me, trying to make the shaking go away.

Panacea looked sympathetically at me. "You okay?" she asked.

I nodded, then shook my head. "I _hate_ lying to my dad."

She grimaced. "That must suck. My dad already knows about me being a cape, of course, but you know, teenage daughters are gonna find _something_ to get in trouble for."

Her tone was so dry at the end that I giggled involuntarily. "Look, thanks for sitting with me," I told her. "I really appreciate it."

She smiled in reply. "You definitely made the morning interesting. Is your hair the right length?"

Thus distracted, I ran my hands through my hair. It felt really full and bouncy, like I'd spent a month's allowance on hair care product, and just gone wild on it.

"Yeah," I allowed. "If it's not, then I can't see anyone noticing. Thanks for growing it back for me."

"Well, between that and saving Lung's life from a cocktail of amazingly versatile venoms, yeah, I haven't had a boring moment all morning," she responded mischievously.

I closed my eyes and gently bumped the back of my head against the wall. "I am never going to live that down, am I?" I asked the air. "I didn't _mean_ to nearly kill him. I thought the venoms would just put him down."

"And they almost did," she assured me. "The beating he got after that had him down and unconscious." She lowered her voice. "It was the tranquilliser that changed everything."

My eyes widened. "So it _wasn't_ me."

"No." She looked warningly at me. "But if you say anything, Armsmaster gets in all sorts of trouble, and he _did_ save your life by getting you to the hospital on time."

"Oh god," I groaned, bumping my head against the wall again. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't."

"Careful," she advised me, only half-seriously. "I can't affect brains. If you give yourself a concussion, you have to live with it."

I sighed. "Okay." Turning my head, I looked questioningly at her. "Can't affect brains? Like, at all?"

"Nope," she replied flatly. "The rest of the body, I'm good. Comes to the brain, my power just switches off. Won't do a thing."

"Huh, that's a weird limitation," I mused. "I suppose that's so you don't accidentally lobotomise someone you don't like while you're healing them."

She snickered, but there was a hollow sound to it. "I guess."

I put my arm around her shoulders; she looked a little startled. "Anyway, thanks for being here. For helping. I … well, I really appreciate it. A lot. And if you ever need anything, just ask. I mean it."

She ducked her head, but I saw the pink flush start in her cheeks before her hood covered her face. "That's okay," she mumbled.

Just at that moment, a voice exclaimed, "Ames! _There_ you are! I've been wondering where you got to!"

We both looked around as Glory Girl burst in through the door. I knew her, of course; she was one of the better-known teen heroes in Brockton Bay. She barely spared me a glance, darting to her sister's side. "Seriously, Ames. This thing with you getting up in the middle of the night and walking to the hospital has _got_ to stop."

Panacea shook her head. "People need healing, Vicky. It's what I do." From the resigned tone of her voice, I got the impression that this was not the first time that they'd had this argument.

Glory Girl rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Anyway, I go to the hospital, and I find that you've come to the PRT building. What's with that?" She appeared to notice me for the first time. "Hi, who are you?"

I was suddenly seized by shyness. "I, uh -"

"She needed healing," Amy put in. "And the PRT want to talk to her, so she's here now. And I got a lift with them."

I was very grateful that she had; she had seemed know that I needed someone to talk to, just so I didn't curl up in a ball and hide under the table. Everything was happening too fast; it wasn't until I had gotten to the PRT building that I had finally decided to make the plunge and call Dad.

It wasn't that I absolutely _had_ to; Armsmaster had informed me of that little tidbit. But the PRT was usually much happier if the parents of their Wards were informed of what was going on. And so, I had decided that telling Dad and weathering the storm now was probably better than having him find out at some inconvenient moment later on, and having it happen then.

"I … thanks for being here," I told Panacea. "It helped, a lot."

"So why do the PRT want to talk to you?" asked Glory Girl. "You're not a criminal, or they'd be processing you. Not a witness, or they'd already be talking to you." She blinked, connecting the dots. "What, you're a _cape?"_

Panacea raised her head, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, why don't you say that a bit louder, Vicky? I'm not sure if they heard it in Boston. Seriously, she's only new, so cut her some slack."

"Hey, hey, ease off, Ames," Glory Girl told her sister placatingly, holding her hands up in surrender. "Victoria Dallon. Pleased to meet you. What do you call yourself?"

I gingerly shook her proffered hand; Glory Girl was widely known as an Alexandria package who could reportedly bench-press _trucks_. One took care when shaking hands with a Brute. "Uh … I don't really have a cape name yet."

Glory Girl frowned. "Huh? Wow, you _are_ new. What are your powers?"

I shrank back; in the face of Glory Girl's relentless questioning, my resolve was starting to erode. However, Panacea came to my rescue.

"Leave her alone, Vicky. She went up against Lung last night. It didn't go well for her. So back off, okay?"

Glory Girl blinked, then stared at me. "You went against Lung, and _survived? _Shit, you must be tougher than you look."

"I nearly died," I admitted, in a very small voice.

"As opposed to _actually_ dying, that's a pretty big contrast, especially when it comes to Lung," Vicky told me admiringly. "I could maybe take him, but I don't think I'd really want to try. Going up against Lung, unless you're in the Triumvirate, that takes balls of solid titanium."

Both Panacea and I winced at the same time; I did it because I recalled just where I'd been having my bugs bite and sting Lung. She must have been recalling the mess I'd made of them. Glory Girl didn't even notice. "Anyway, Ames, Mom wanted me to remind you not to be late to school. So I thought I'd fly you in."

Panacea rolled her eyes. "School. Yay." She turned to me and gave me a hug, which I returned after a moment. "Keep in touch, okay?"

"Uh, if it's all right?" I asked, unsure.

She grinned and knuckled my forehead gently. "Sure it's all right. I want to see how you're doing."

"Okay then." I smiled back at her. "I'll do that."

* * *

><p>I watched them leave, and the waiting room got a lot quieter after that. Someone came in and asked me if I wanted something to eat or drink; I asked for tea, and got it in a paper cup. Cookies came with it; I nibbled some while I sipped my tea.<p>

While I waited, I spread my senses out. There weren't all that many bugs in the PRT building; at least, there weren't as many as in the surrounding air and buildings, and certainly not as many as on the ground. But there were enough for me to get a good feel for the layout, and where I was in it. Interestingly, I noted levels _below_ ground level; how far down this building extended, I wasn't sure.

I didn't do anything with the bugs, of course; I was a guest here. And as it was, I could barely use their senses to get anything understandable to my human brain.

* * *

><p>Dad's arrival came as almost a surprise; I only recognised him via the bugs after he'd entered the building. He was escorted up in the elevator to my floor, and along the corridor to the room I was waiting in. I was already standing by the time the door opened.<p>

"Dad!" I flung myself into his arms.

He held me tight, lifted me off the ground. "Taylor. Oh thank Christ you're alive. What _happened?_ Why are you here? And why are you wearing those clothes? And where did you _go_ last night?"

Once he released me from the hug, I looked sheepishly down at the clothes I had been given. They weren't really my fit; jeans that were just long enough in the leg, but required belting way in to fit my waist, and a t-shirt that basically hung off of me. Fortunately, my underwear had survived Lung.

I took a deep breath. "Dad … sit down. I need to talk to you about … stuff."

Slowly, he sat down. "Taylor, I'm going to need some answers. I don't understand _any_ of this."

"Yeah, and I'm really sorry, Dad. Okay, I lied a little bit when I said I had an internship job here. The truth is, I have powers."

I stopped talking; he blinked at me.

"You have powers." His voice was flat.

I nodded. "I have powers," I repeated. "And I have a costume. And last night I went out for the first time, and I did something stupid, andInearlydiedbutI'mgoodnow, and they want me to join the Wards," I finished in a rush.

"Wait just a minute," he told me. "Back up just a little. The bit after you did something stupid."

I couldn't look him in the face. Staring at the carpet, I mumbled, "I kinda nearly died."

His arms went around me again. "Taylor! What were you _thinking?"_

My voice rose in response. "I was thinking I want to be a _superhero,_ Dad! I have _powers!_ I have a _costume! _I can _help_ people!"

"Or you can run into someone who nearly kills you, apparently," he retorted.

The door opened, and Armsmaster stood there. "Which is why we would like her to join the Wards, Mr Hebert," he observed.

I wondered if perfect timing was a power that he had, or if he was just listening in. On second thought, I went with 'listening in'."

Dad looked from me to Armsmaster and back. "And why should she do that? It's obviously too dangerous for her."

"No, it's not -" I began, at the same time that Armsmaster started talking again. I shut up and let him go on.

"Perhaps, Mr Hebert, you'd like to know exactly who she went up against."

Danny tilted his head. "Do tell."

Armsmaster smiled slightly. "Lung. And he's now in custody, thanks in great part to Taylor's efforts."

Dad stared at him, then at me. "You went up against _Lung?"_

I shrugged. "Said I did something stupid."

"But you helped capture him?"

Another shrug. "Maybe not 'helped'. Made it easier, maybe."

"Mr Hebert," Armsmaster interjected. "Your daughter has powers. It's very hard for someone with powers to _not_ use them. We can help her train with them, provide a safe working environment, and a team to fall back on if she gets in trouble. All she has to do is join the Wards."

Dad frowned. "Well, when you put it _that_ way … "

I stayed silent. _Please say yes, please say yes._

"There's a stipend, and a trust fund that money is paid into while she's in the Wards. She gets access to it when she turns eighteen," Armsmaster noted. "What school does she go to?"

"Winslow," Dad replied absently; he was still, I knew, thinking about it.

"Hm," Armsmaster responded. "It would make it easier if she was at Arcadia, but we can definitely work with Winslow." At the time, the comment seemed a little odd to me, but I let it go by. Later, of course, I would realise the significance.

"Dad … ?" I ventured, unable to stay quiet any more.

He sighed and turned to me. "If I said no, you'd sneak out anyway, wouldn't you, kiddo?" His tone was a mixture of exasperation and fondness.

"Maybe," I admitted, dropping my eyes.

He turned to Armsmaster. "And you'd make sure her grades didn't suffer?"

"It's part of our mandate," the armoured hero assured him firmly. "She would attend class just as often as she was able."

Dad nodded. "Right. Well … as it seems that I'm already outvoted in this matter … I guess I'm going to have to say yes."

I flung my arms around him again.

* * *

><p><strong>Afternoon of Tuesday, March 12<strong>

**Shortly after Taylor's interview with Richardson**

* * *

><p><em>A knock sounded on Gerard's office door; he looked up. "Yes?" he called.<em>

_The door opened, revealing Aegis standing outside. "You called for me, sir?" His tone was polite and respectful._

"_Yes, I did. Please, come in."_

_As Aegis did so, Gerard squared the files on his desk, then pushed his glasses up his nose a little. "You've been made aware that we have a new recruit joining the Wards?"_

"_Yes, sir; Armsmaster briefed me in, earlier."_

_Gerard allowed himself a slight smile. "Good. That makes my life a little easier. She's doing the paperwork right now. Once she's finished, I'd like you to introduce her to the rest of the Wards."_

_A frown creased Aegis' face. "Uh, yes, sir. I was going to be doing that anyway ..." He trailed off as Gerard raised a finger. "Uh, sir?"_

"_I also need you to do something else for me," the head of the Brockton Bay PR department stated. "I need you to ensure that Shadow Stalker is out on patrol before you do that."_

_If anything, the frown on Aegis' face deepened. "I'm … not sure that I understand, sir."_

_Gerard sighed. "Taylor is … fragile. She was badly shaken by her near-death experience, and is suffering a lack of self-esteem, of confidence, as a result. **Also**," he went on, raising his voice slightly as Aegis went to open his mouth, "I'm getting the distinct impression that she's undergone some sort of harassment or bullying, and not so long ago. Anything that comes across as a denigration of her self, her heroic identity, before she has a chance to get comfortable in it, could drive her away from us for good. I'm not sure that we could trust Shadow Stalker in this matter, even if you told her to leave the girl alone. Thus, patrol." _

_Aegis nodded slowly. "I can do that." He paused for a moment, apparently thinking. "I'd written up the roster so that Vista was due to go out on patrol with Browbeat. I'll switch it around so that Shadow Stalker goes with him instead."_

_It was Gerard's turn to frown slightly. "Browbeat's only been with us for a few days. Shadow Stalker tends to be fairly abrasive. Is it wise to pair them together so early?"_

_Aegis tilted his head in acknowledgement of the point. "Browbeat isn't exactly a people person either, sir. I doubt that he'll be interested in talking too much."_

"_Your point is valid. Very well, let's see how this goes."_

"_I'll go change the roster now, sir." Aegis turned and left the office, closing the door carefully behind him._

_Gerard sighed and leaned back in his chair. Removing his glasses, he closed his eyes and rubbed them with finger and thumb._

_**Some days,** he mused, **this job is like tap-dancing in a minefield.**_

* * *

><p>I had thought the interview room was quiet before, while I was filling out the forms. But since the clerk and come and taken them away, even the sound of pen scratching over paper was gone. I looked around, at the large mirror covering most of one wall.<p>

"Wow," I murmured to Dad. "It's like every police drama ever. I mean, I know for a fact that's one-way glass, with a room behind it."

The anechoic tiles on the floor and walls and ceiling simply took the sound of my voice and swallowed it; I found myself working my jaw, to pop my ears. It didn't help.

He looked quizzically at me. "What, your bugs tell you that?"

I shrugged. "I just know it is; why else would they put such a large mirror in the room? Also, yeah, there's bugs in there. I think there's also recording equipment, but it's all turned off."

He was staring at me. I blinked. "What?"

"Your powers. I'm still getting used to them. And the fact that you even _have_ them."

"I really wish you hadn't had to find out this way," I apologised sincerely. "But there never really was a _good_ time to tell you."

He sighed and nodded. "I guess. I've been pretty well caught up in my own problems. I guess I needed a wake-up call."

I put my arms around him, held him close. "I think this is a good thing for both of us. Now I can actually _do_ something with my life, instead of the same old, same old at school."

He returned the embrace. "As _well_ as," he corrected me. "But you're still going to school, remember? And I doubt that being in the Wards will be _totally _free of problems."

"Yeah." I rested my head on his chest. "But at least the problems I have in the Wards won't be the problems I have at school."

* * *

><p>"<em>I don't fucking believe this!" snapped Shadow Stalker. "I had <strong>plans<strong>! And now you've changed the fucking roster around!" She jabbed a forefinger at the offending piece of paper. "Has that little snitch Vista been complaining to you about me?"_

_Aegis stood firm, though he took note of the slip. **I might need to speak to Vista.** "No," he stated flatly. "She has not. I changed the roster for my own reasons. One of which is that Browbeat is new to the Wards, and you know the city better than most. If anyone can show him where the trouble spots are, you can."_

"_He's a Brute! He'll slow me down!"_

"_I suggest that you adapt, then. You can't always choose the teammate you go out with." His tone hardened. "And if you ditch him to go off on your own, I will be noting it on your file."_

_Sophia rolled her eyes. "Fine. Have it your way." She fitted her mask on her face and headed over to where Browbeat was sitting at the monitor console with Kid Win._

"_- so you switch between these screens using this monitor, and you can set it to four, nine, sixteen or twenty-five subscreens – oh, hey, Shadow Stalker."_

_Browbeat looked up as Kid Win greeted the dark-cloaked Ward. "Hi," he ventured. "Kid Win's been showing me the monitor console. It's pretty cool." He checked the time on the screen. "Oh shit; I think I'm supposed to be going out on patrol soon. Have you seen Vista?"_

_Shadow Stalker shook her head. "Roster's changed. You're coming out with me. Ready to roll?"_

_Browbeat blinked. "Oh, uh, sure. Just let me mask up and get a drink of water."_

_Shadow Stalker tapped her foot. "Hurry it up. There's muggers out there who haven't been beaten senseless yet." A pause, as both Kid Win and Browbeat stared at her. "A **joke**," she told them. "It was a **joke**. Come on, move it. I haven't got all night."_

* * *

><p>I looked up as the costumed teenager entered the room. "Hi," he greeted us. "Aegis. Pleased to meet you."<p>

Part of me wanted to look around to make sure that it was me - _me! _- who Aegis was addressing, was offering his hand to. Awkwardly, I rose, and shook hands with him.

"I, uh, hi," I managed, then flushed with embarrassment. "Taylor – um, sorry, Buzz."

His smile was easy, unforced; his teeth were very white against his tanned skin. "That's okay, Taylor," he replied. "We all have trouble getting used to our cape names at first. You're a Master, right? Bug control?"

I realised that I was staring at the very impressive muscle definition of his torso, as outlined by his costume, and jerked my eyes back up to his face. _Way to go, Taylor. Officially a Ward for less than an hour, and already ogling my team leader._

Dad saved me; he rose from his seat and shook Aegis' hand. "I'm Danny Hebert. I want to thank you for giving Taylor this opportunity."

"Trust me, sir, it's our pleasure." Aegis nodded toward me. "Taylor promises to bring a very versatile powerset to the Wards, and we'll do our best to keep her safe while she learns to use it to its fullest potential."

I cleared my throat. "Uh, yeah, bug control, that's me."

His smile turned into a comradely grin. "Well, at least they got that right. I'm here to officially welcome you to the Wards, and to take you to meet them, and show you our base, if you want."

"I, uh, sure," I stammered. "I got my costume, here," I added lamely. "I can wear it … "

He nodded. "Sure. It'll probably be a good idea, just to give us an idea what you'll be wearing when you're out and about."

They'd shown me where the restroom was; I grabbed the carry-bag that had my costume in it, and scuttled out of the interview room, to get changed.

* * *

><p>When I returned, Dad and Aegis were chatting familiarly about management, of all things. Of course, it kind of made sense; Dad was chairman of the Dock Workers Association, and Aegis was in charge of the Wards. On the one hand, Dad had more people to worry about; on the other, the Wards had powers, and regularly went out to fight crime. I did not envy either one of them.<p>

Aegis turned as I entered, and I saw his eyebrows raise, under the mask. "Okay ..." he murmured. "I've seen pictures, but that costume's much more impressive in real life. I see you fixed the lens?"

I nodded. "I had spare swim goggles, and I made it so I could change them out if necessary."

"Good thinking," he praised me. "And those are armour panels?"

"Bug chitin bound together with black widow spider silk," I confirmed. "I don't know exactly what they'll stop, but they're the best protection I could create."

Dad was staring at the costume. "Taylor," he choked, "_when_ exactly did you make this? I had no idea … "

I shrugged. "Weekends and after school, usually down in the basement."

He shook his head slowly. "Damn. I don't know whether to be impressed with your ingenuity, or upset with myself for not noticing something this big going on in your life."

I stepped forward and hugged him; hesitantly, he hugged me back. "You're part of it now, Dad," I assured him. "No more secrets."

Aegis slapped me on the shoulder. "Well, are you ready to meet your teammates?" He grinned. "This is going to be kind of a surprise to them. You get to make a big entrance."

All of a sudden, I didn't want to go. I glanced at Dad. "Can you come with … ?"

Regretfully, he shook his head. "Sorry, kiddo," he told me. "This is your world, now. I don't belong in this part of it." He forced a grin. "Besides, do you really want your old Dad turning up with you at your first day in your new job?"

I rolled my eyes, unseen, inside the mask. "When you put it _that_ way, Dad, yeah, you have a point." I hugged him again. "Thanks for being so supportive."

His arms were tight around me. "It's what a dad's for, kiddo. Sometimes I might have forgotten that, but I'm going to try to be better from now on."

I felt a warmth in my heart, and I may just have sniffled slightly. "Thanks, Dad. I'll see you at home, and tell you all about it."

He gave me an extra squeeze, then let me go. "I look forward to it. Now go on, knock 'em dead."

I headed for the door; Aegis lingered a moment to shake Dad's hand again. "Thank you for being so understanding for Taylor, sir. Many parents would not."

"It's her choice," Dad reminded him. "Now please, take care of my little girl."

"I'll do my best," Aegis promised him, then joined me at the door.

"Bye, Dad," I called over my shoulder.

"Bye, kiddo," he replied.

* * *

><p>"Your dad seems like a good guy," Aegis observed as we headed for the lifts.<p>

"He's the best," I agreed. "He's always tried to look out for me."

He hit the button for the lift; the doors interleaved open almost immediately. We stepped in, and he swiped his ID card and hit the button for the lowest floor.

"So what made you pick Buzz for a name?" he asked casually.

I shrugged. "It makes sense, and I do pick up a certain amount of information from the bugs; you know, the buzz, as in the news?" I frowned, thinking about it. "Actually, I think Mr Richardson suggested it, earlier, and it stuck in my head. Anyway, it's on the forms now."

"Well, we can always change it if need be, later," he assured me. The doors opened, and we stepped out into the stainless-steel corridor. "Down this way," he told me.

"I know," I replied. "There's bugs in the room. I can tell the other Wards are there."

He glanced at me, looking somewhat impressed. "Nicely done. We're definitely going to have to work with that. I think you've got a lot of potential for information gathering."

I smiled a little, under the mask, glad he couldn't see the slight flush on my cheeks. Getting praised by a well-known hero like Aegis was something I still wasn't used to.

We reached a retinal scanner, and Aegis paused. "I'll set it up so it can read you," he decided. Swiping the card, he typed something in, and pointed at the scanner. "See if it can read you through the lens."

I leaned forward, the laser probed my eyeball, and the machine beeped to show it had a good read.

"Excellent," he declared, typing something else in. "Right, you're now a known user. Give it another look at you."

When I repeated the procedure, the light turned green. However, when I pressed the button to open the massive steel doors, nothing happened.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked apprehensively.

He shook his head. "Sorry. Should have warned you. There's a time delay. When the door is activated, a buzzer goes off inside, to make sure that anyone who's unmasked can mask up."

"Oh, uh, that makes sense, yeah," I agreed. At that moment, the doors beeped and then slid open.

Aegis stepped through, into the Wards base; I followed.

* * *

><p>End of Part 4<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Confrontation**

* * *

><p>Part 5: Meet and Greet<p>

* * *

><p><em>"Christ," muttered Shadow Stalker. "Could Aegis have possibly saddled me with a more useless partner?"<em>

_She paused on the corner of the roof and tapped her radio earbud. "Are you going to be catching up any time soon?"_

_There was no answer; she tapped it again. "I said, are you going to be -"_

_He puffed into view. **"I heard what you said," **he replied. **"I'm doing my best, all right?"**_

_"Oh," Sophia responded, belatedly realising that he'd heard her 'useless partner' crack. "Well ... hurry up, okay?"_

_**"Doing. My. Best."** He didn't say any more, but she saw his pace improve a little._

_Turning, she leaped and shadow-glided across to the next rooftop._

* * *

><p>Aegis stepped though into the Wards base; I followed, gawking at the interior of the room. It was shaped like a big dome, with partitions blocking off areas from view; I guessed that was where the more private areas were. It wasn't much of a guess; my bugs had already located bathroom facilities and what felt like bedclothes.<p>

"Everyone, your attention please," Aegis announced. "I've got someone for you to meet."

I gulped; it was nerve-wracking enough to meet the Wards, much less meet them as _one_ of them. A formless terror rose in me; what right did I have to even _presume_ I was good enough to be a Ward? These were all _heroes_; what was I but a kid in a homemade costume -

"Hi!" called out a tall blond guy, wearing T-shirt, jeans and a domino mask. "It's great to meet you."

I blinked as he strode up to us - to _me - _with a wide, genuine smile on his face. Almost, I looked behind me to see who he was talking to. But no, it was me. Reaching out, he took my unresisting hand and shook it firmly. "It's _awesome_ to have someone else on the team," he assured me, almost as if addressing my unexpressed concerns. "And hey, that's a pretty cool costume. Must've cost you a mint."

"I, uh, made it myself?" I ventured.

His eyes widened behind the mask. "No kidding? Holy crap, that's seriously impressive. I'm Gallant, by the way. What's your cape name?"

"I, uh, Buzz," I mumbled.

"Well, let me tell you, Buzz, being able to make your own costume? _Hella_ useful. You see Kid Win over there?" He jerked his thumb at the brown-haired kid sitting at the computer terminal, who offered me a friendly wave. I saw that he was wearing a visor that obscured the upper half of his face.

Gallant lowered his voice conspiratorially. "He's the one who actually made my armour and maintains it for me, which basically means that whenever he gets distracted, which is basically a daily occurrence -"

"Screw you too, Gallant," Kid Win interjected, though I could tell from the tone of his voice that he didn't mean it. "Hey, Buzz. Nice to meet you. And he's right. It's a pretty impressive costume. You some kind of cloth Tinker?"

"Cloth Tinker? Is that even a thing?" asked a red-haired boy in casual clothes, wearing another domino mask.

"Well, isn't that what Parian is?" retorted Kid Win. "Buzz, meet Clockblocker. Yes, the name's deliberate. Yes, he picked it himself. And yes, that does tell you everything you need to know about him."

"I, uh, thought that Parian animated cloth with her powers," I objected timidly. "Not Tinkered with it."

"Yeah, but that's no fun," Clockblocker argued cheerfully. "I just love the idea of someone stitching together cloth golems and sending them off to do her bidding."

While I was still trying to get my head around the idea of 'cloth golems', a door opened in one of the partitions, and a girl poked her head out. "Did I just hear – hey wow, who's this?"

She, alone of the Wards who had been here to greet me, was costumed up; I recognised her immediately. This wasn't hard, given that she was young, female, and not black. Her costume was teal and green, with a skirt.

"Uh, hi, uh, Vista," I greeted her, offering a bit of a wave. "I'm Buzz. I just joined."

Space distorted, and she was right there in front of me. Even as I blinked, trying to process what had just happened, she put her arms around me and hugged me tightly. "Yay!" she exclaimed. "We've got another girl!"

"Um … I thought that Shadow Stalker … " I ventured, tentatively returning the hug. Of all the ways that I had envisaged being welcomed to the Wards, this was not it.

Kid Win snorted in response to my comment. "Yeah, but according to Vista, she doesn't count."

"You gotta admit, though," Clockblocker observed, "she _is _kinda _-"_

" - not here, and you're not going to talk about her behind her back," Aegis interrupted sharply. He turned to me. "Well, these are the Wards on base. The others are on patrol; you'll meet them sooner or later. I've got to get going, so I'll leave you to their tender mercies."

I blinked. Somehow, I had expected him to wait while I got to know the others. But of course, he was the team leader, and had other duties apart from me.

"I should be fine," I told him, with more optimism than expectation, "but, uh, about unmasking … is there a requirement … ?"

He smiled and shook his head. "All the Wards here know each other, and they've unmasked to Shadow Stalker, and vice versa. Browbeat hasn't unmasked, so they stay masked around him. You can opt to not unmask to all or some members of the Wards, but if you do that, you're expected to keep track of who knows your face and name, and who doesn't." He paused for a beat. "Got it?"

I nodded. "Okay, yeah. Thanks. I appreciate it."

He offered his hand. "You're welcome. And in case I forgot before – welcome to the Wards."

I shook it; his grip was firm without being overly crushing. "Thanks," I told him. "It's good to be here."

With a nod and a smile, he turned and hit the panel to open the heavy doors. They _whooshed_ open, he stepped through, and they closed behind him. With a sudden feeling of loneliness, I turned to face the Wards, fully expecting them to have lost interest in me.

Far from it; Vista, who had released me from the ambush hug, grabbed my hand and towed me to a table. "Come on, sit down," she urged me. "It's been _so long_ since I had another girl to talk to in here. What TV shows do you like?"

"Whoa, wait up a moment," chuckled Gallant, bringing the excitable young Ward to a halt with an outstretched arm. "Give her a moment to breathe, will you?" He turned his amused gaze on me. "I can see that you're a bit overwhelmed by all this. So take a moment if you have to. Look around. We've got sleeping alcoves, places you can store your stuff, spare costumes and the like. If you're interested in computers, Kid Win can show you the monitor console."

I blinked. "I do like computers, yeah," I replied. "But those look a bit out of my league."

"Ah, it's all pretty easy to learn," Kid Win told me cheerfully. "We all take our turn on monitor duty."

"Yay," Clockblocker and Vista retorted in near-perfect unison, their voices flat and robotic. "Monitor duty."

"Hey, I _like_ monitor duty!" Kid Win protested.

"Which only gives more credibility to my idea that your armour cuts off the flow of blood to your brain," Clockblocker asserted. "Monitor duty is perhaps the most boring job on the face of the earth."

"I can think of fifteen other things that I'd rather do than monitor duty," Vista added. "And fourteen of them involve rearranging my underwear drawer."

"Not going to ask what the fifteenth one is, then," Clockblocker observed in a teasing tone of voice. "I – oof!"

I blinked again; Vista had done her space-twisty thing, and had neatly elbowed Clockblocker in the ribs, despite the fact that she'd been over five yards away from him at the time.

"Medic," he wheezed, hamming it up, staggering dramatically. "You're all witnesses. She assaulted me."

"All I saw," Gallant told him firmly, "was you asking for it. So don't go trying to play the sympathy card with us. And Vista?"

"Yes?" she beamed, turning toward him.

He could not help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Don't do that in front of our new guest, okay? It might give her the wrong idea about how we do things."

"Or the right one," Kid Win put in dryly. "Buzz, quick tip? We're not like this all the time. Just, you know, most of it."

I nodded. "Right. Thanks. Got it."

"So sit down," urged Vista. "Talk to us. What do you do?"

I frowned under my mask as I sat. "Uh, do?"

Vista seated herself, looking my costume over with intense interest. Gallant also took a seat, as did Clockblocker. Kid Win did something to the console, and came over as well.

"Yeah," Clockblocker clarified. "Your powers. How come you're in the Wards?"

I looked carefully at him, but the question didn't seem to be critical or derogatory. He honestly wanted to know.

This was a new experience for me; a bunch of people who I looked up to were interested in _me_. So I said the first thing that came to mind; "Wait, the Wards? You mean this isn't sale day at Macy's?"

There was a frozen pause, then they all burst out laughing. Kid Win slapped Clockblocker on the back, and even the redhead was grinning ruefully as he chuckled at my feeble joke.

"Nicely done," Gallant told me. "Clock, looks like you've got competition."

"Uh, sorry," I apologised almost at once. "It just slipped out."

"That's what – oof!"

I looked at Clockblocker; he had finished his statement almost before starting it, courtesy of an elbow via Vista.

"You were going to make a crude joke," she informed him primly. "Not in front of the guest." She grinned at me. "Well, not until we find out if you'd be offended, anyway."

"I'm fine," I assured her. I wasn't going to tell them about it, but I'd grown up around dock workers, who weren't always careful with their language. I was pretty sure I could match them for off-colour jokes. "Anyway, you were asking me about my powers."

Kid Win nodded. "Going by the theme … I'm thinking something insect related."

"Basically, yeah," I told him. "I sense and control bugs. Insects, arachnids, earthworms, crabs -"

Clockblocker perked up. "Do you mean -"

"Both types," I informed him hastily.

"Aw." He subsided, apparently mildly disappointed that I'd spoiled the incipient joke.

Gallant spoke into the subsequent silence. "So, uh, when you say 'sense' -"

I looked at him. "I mean that I know where they are, to the millimetre, and I can sorta-kinda tap into their senses. Bugs, by the way, have crap senses."

Vista was nodding. "And you can control them? How precisely?"

For an answer, I had a beetle fly over from where it was lurking in the corner. It circled her head twice, landed on the table in front of her, and walked in a circle. She looked somewhat taken aback.

"Wow," she managed. "That's pretty impressive."

Kid Win was rubbing his chin. "I'm guessing you can control more than one bug at a time."

I nodded. "Yup. I have a radius of about two and half blocks at the moment."

"And how many bugs can you control in that area?" asked Clockblocker.

I didn't even have time to answer; Gallant got there first. His jaw dropped. "Holy shit. _All _of them?"

My jaw dropped in turn. "How did you know that?"

"You were feeling so pleased with yourself, it couldn't be any other answer," he replied with a grin.

Clockblocker rolled his eyes. "You realise, if you keep doing this, you're going to have to turn in your not-a-telepath card."

"Wait, what?" I protested. "You read my _mind?"_

"No," he corrected me. "I saw your emotions. I see everyone's emotions. I can't _not_ see them. It's what I do."

I frowned. "I thought you were some kind of Tinker." I paused. "Well, I _did_, until you told me that Kid Win made your armour."

He shook his head with a grin. "No, I'm an empath, and I can fire off bolts of light that give people a mild stun, and alter their emotions. The armour's just for personal protection."

"Actually, talking of that," Vista put in, reaching out to feel the sleeve of my costume, "what _is_ this made of?"

"Well, actually, we were just talking about that," Clockblocker put in. "You see, apart from controlling bugs, she's also a cloth Tinker."

Vista blinked. "Wait, what?" She stared at me. "How does that even -"

Gallant chuckled, shaking his head. "Ignore him. It was something that came up before. Buzz made the costume herself." He looked at me. "Would I be correct in assuming that it's something bug related?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it's black widow dragline silk. The armour panels are insect chitin held together by more spider web."

Vista stared at me, then at the costume. She pinched a bit of sleeve between her finger and thumb. "You had _spiders_ weave this for you?"

"Took me months," I confirmed. "But it's the toughest thing I could get hold of."

"Okay," she declared. "It's a bit edgy and dark looking -"

Clockblocker coughed into his hand; I caught what sounded like 'Shadow Stalker!', but he looked innocently back at me when I glanced that way.

" - _but,"_ she continued, "it's also the coolest costume here, by a wide margin. The coolest costume in the Wards. Easily."

"I, uh -" I began.

She looked at me with puppy-dog eyes. "Could you make me one too?"

"I, uh -" I began again, but then Gallant cleared his throat.

"Vista, you did hear her when she said 'months', right?"

"I can wait," she protested. "Have you felt how _smooth_ that is?"

"Uh, the other problem?" Clockblocker put in. "Buzz, I'm guessing that you need more than one or two … what was it, black widow spiders?"

I nodded. "Second strongest webbing in the world. I'd need a thousand or more."

"Right, right," he agreed. "Black widows. A _thousand_ black widows. Where were you thinking of keeping them while they wove your new costume, Vista?"

"Oh," she told him with a sweet smile, "I was thinking _your_ room."

He shook his head violently. "Oh, _hell_ no."

"The point is probably moot anyway," Gallant noted. "We'd have to run it past the Director."

"And Miss Piggy would be all 'nope'," predicted Clockblocker.

"And we'd have to smuggle them in anyway," Vista added.

"And we'd get caught, and we'd be stuck in probation until we reached retirement age," concluded Kid Win. "You're right. Bad idea."

"I know," Clockblocker replied with a grin. "Let's do it."

I couldn't help smiling under my mask. They were just chatting, being serious and silly by turns. In other words, being typical teens. "Wait a minute," I protested. "Did you really just call the Director -"

Gallant rolled his eyes. "It was Clockblocker's idea. Her name's Piggot, and you _have_ met her, right?"

I had, for a very brief interview, and I had come away with the impression of an overworked bureaucrat. One who was, I had to admit, noticeably overweight. Her blonde bob, almost certainly a dye job, didn't help her image, as far as I was concerned. Apart from that, I hadn't actually formed much of an opinion of her, either way.

"It's a bit mean, and disrespectful," I ventured.

"My point exactly," Gallant responded. "She's not the nicest person in the world -" He paused, apparently waiting for someone to challenge his statement, but no-one seemed to want to take the bait. " - but she's fair." Clockblocker looked like he wanted to object, so Gallant amended his words. _"Tough_ but fair, okay?"

Reluctantly, Clockblocker nodded. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled.

I tentatively raised my hand. "Uh, I feel kind of silly all costumed up. I mean, you can't even see my face. Is there some place I can take my mask off? And can I borrow one of your domino masks?"

Gallant chuckled. "Sure. In fact, they're _your_ domino masks now. They're there for anyone to mask up, if and when the door buzzer sounds." He nodded to Vista. "Go ahead and show her where she can change masks."

"Okay!" she replied eagerly, leaping to her feet. "Come on," she urged me.

I got up and followed along; she showed me to a small alcove with a bed and a chest of drawers. "This is mine," she informed me proudly. "We'll get you a room too, so you can leave stuff here, like Gallant said."

I looked around. "Cosy," I commented.

She grinned, and the walls began to recede. The bugs in the area gave back weird readings; I wasn't quite sure where they were, in relation to me.

"Better?" she asked, her expression mischievous.

"Wow," I commented. "Just wow. How do you do that?"

"I manipulate space," she explained, confirming my suspicion. "I can expand or shrink it, but not if there's people in the way."

I looked around at the suddenly-cavernous area. "I'm really impressed."

"Hey, I'm impressed with your bug control," she replied. "You can affect a wider area than I've tried working with so far, and there's lots and lots of bugs in Brockton Bay."

I grinned at her. "Oh, I know. Trust me – I know."

She looked up at me. "I'll leave you to change your mask, but I want you to know, it's really great having another girl on the team." Quickly, impulsively, she gave me another hug, and then she was gone, the door closing behind her.

_How old is she, anyway?_ I wondered. _She can't be more than twelve._

I dismissed the speculation. Age, in this case, didn't matter.

Sitting down on the bed, I lay back and breathed deeply, taking a moment to de-stress. This had, I realised, been the intent all along. I didn't need to go to another room to change masks; all I'd really needed to do was turn my back. But Gallant had seen in me the need to be alone for a few minutes, so he had made the suggestion, and Vista had picked up on it.

I appreciated it; I hadn't noticed the tension in my shoulders, but it was draining out of me as I relaxed in the quiet. It gave me time to think, to adjust.

_So I'm in the Wards now, _I told myself. _How am I doing so far?_

The Wards were … nice. Aegis had been friendly, welcoming. Gallant was making a particular effort to live up to his name, probably with the help of his emotion sense, and it was working. Even though I knew now that he could see what I was feeling, he was still succeeding in at putting me at my ease.

Kid Win was a nice guy, and Vista was just sweet. Clockblocker, on the other hand ... he was obviously a bit of a jokester, but I already knew that from his name. The fact that he was a redhead ... it didn't change matters. He didn't really remind me much of Emma, and his brand of humour wasn't mean or vindictive.

_I think I could get to like these people._

Sitting up, I pulled off my mask and ran my hands through my hair. Holding up the domino mask to my face, I considered it. _Should I just unmask to them right now, and get it over with?_

I wanted to, I really did. I wanted to have the knowledge that I could trust them with my deepest secret. I wanted to be able to associate with them outside of the Wards. Going shopping with Vista … now _that_ would be an interesting experience.

But I couldn't chance it, not quite yet. There was too much hurt, too many issues. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Taking a deep breath, I fitted the domino mask to my face. Then I pulled a pair of glasses from a pouch and put them on over the mask. I must have looked a little silly, but I didn't care.

* * *

><p><em>Browbeat increased the capacity of his lungs yet again, and fine-tuned his leg muscles once more. Shadow Stalker seemed intent on pushing him to his limits, or maybe beyond them. He didn't know if this was personal, if she had some reason for doing this, or if this was a kind of initiation; send the new guy out with Shadow Stalker.<em>

_He wasn't going to complain, not yet. Not unless the hazing went past what he personally considered to be unacceptable levels. Right now he was getting a good workout, so that was okay. But if she ditched him in some rough neighbourhood, to let him make his own way home, then he might consider putting in a complaint._

_He still didn't know whether she'd meant him to hear the 'useless partner' comment. It may well have been just an impulsive outburst on her part, or it may have been calculated to wear down his morale. Either way, it had stung, just a bit. **Just because I can't rooftop run like she can …**_

_Still, he must be keeping up with her, and not holding her back too badly, because there had been no more comments like that, cutting or otherwise._

_But something else was starting to bother him. He wasn't as knowledgeable about the gang territories as he'd like to be, but he'd looked at the map when he had found that he was going to be on patrol. And it seemed to him that something was off._

"_Shadow Stalker," he stated._

_The dark figure on the rooftop up ahead paused. **"What is it, Browbeat?"** Her voice was sharp, impatient._

"_Uh, haven't we kind of overshot the patrol area?"_

_She sighed, clearly audible through the earbud. **"Have we stopped any crime yet?"**_

"_Uh, no. It actually looks pretty quiet."_

"_**Which means we haven't gone far enough to find it yet. So we keep going."**_

"_Is this a good idea?" He didn't think it would get the response he wanted, but he had to ask the question._

"_**If I wanted your opinion, Browbeat, I would have asked. Did I ask? No. Now, if you want to go back home to mommy, feel free. I won't stop you. But if you're on this patrol, you're on this goddamn patrol. Is that understood?"**_

_He almost flinched, from the anger that came through with her words. "Uh, yes. Understood."_

"_**So are you on this patrol or not?"**_

_The way he saw it, he really didn't have a choice. "I'm on the patrol."_

"_**Good. Now, keep quiet unless you've actually got something to say. And try to keep up."**_

_Her voice cut off, and he saw her leap to the next building over. Grimly, he kept going, working to keep up with her._

* * *

><p>When I emerged, there were several cans of soda sitting on the table, including a Coke at my place. "This is mine?" I asked, picking it up.<p>

"Sure," Gallant told me. "I wasn't quite sure what you liked, so I got you that."

"Because _everyone_ likes Coke," Kid Win added dryly.

"I'm more of a coffee or tea drinker," I offered, "but sure, I'll drink soda." Pulling the tab, I took a drink. "So, what else did you want to know?"

"Who are you, and what did you do with the scary bug girl?" quipped Clockblocker. He grinned at me. "No offence, but you look a lot nicer when we can see your face. Nice glasses, by the way."

I didn't feel offended; in fact, I felt a slight flush start on my cheekbones. _He said I looked nice._

"Oh, uh, thanks," I replied, and took another drink of soda, to hide my confusion.

"May I see?" asked Kid Win, holding out his hand. After a moment, I realised that he meant my mask, and I handed it over. Putting down his drink, he examined the mask carefully, looking at it inside and out.

"Spider silk as well?" he asked.

I nodded. "Armoured as well as I could. I was going to make it fully enclosed at the back, but then I decided that I was just stalling, so … "

"Got it," he agreed. "Sometimes you've just got to go out there and do it." He held up the mask on his hand, fingers spread, and looked into the empty goggle lenses. "You need glasses … lenses set in the goggle lenses?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. "I have several spare pairs."

He turned the mask around, running a finger over the detail. "I am really, seriously impressed. I especially love the mandibles. They give you a real don't-screw-with-me look."

"No, that's the whole costume," Clockblocker interjected. "Actually, you know what that costume would be great for? A villain."

Silence fell, as everyone looked at Clockblocker. Everyone except Gallant, who was looking at me. Who could detect, I was pretty sure, the sudden feelings of uncertainty and self-doubt that Clockblocker's words had awakened in me.

"Armsmaster said that too," I told them in a very small voice.

"Clockblocker, you _idiot,"_ Kid Win snapped, scathingly.

"But hey, what do I know?" Clockblocker went on brightly. "You know what? One person's villain costume is another person's ultra-cool hero costume. And seriously, are you gonna take _my_ word for anything? Come on. You've _met_ me."

"He's right," Vista told me, putting her arm around my waist. "I've been on this team longer than everyone but Aegis and Gallant, and I've seen some pretty good costumes. That one is super awesome."

"But Armsmaster -" I began.

Clockblocker snorted. "The day I take fashion advice from the Halbeard -"

Kid Win and Gallant both sprayed soda on the table; Gallant started coughing, and Kid Win patted him on the back.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'll live," Gallant rasped. He stared at Clockblocker. "Where the hell did you get _that_ from?"

Clockblocker rolled his eyes. "Someone used it on the PHO forums. I thought it sounded about right."

Gallant shook his head emphatically. "You do not use that name again, ever. _Ever._ We don't use it in public, and we don't use it in here. Calling Director Piggot Miss Piggy is bad enough; we don't let anyone hear us using a nickname like that for the head of the Protectorate here in Brockton Bay. Am I understood?"

Clockblocker frowned. "Aegis is in charge, not you -"

"Aegis," declared Gallant, "would come down on you twice as hard if you used that name in front of him." He eyed Clockblocker. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"But it's _funny_ -" began Clockblocker.

I took a deep breath. "Armsmaster saved my life, last night," I stated, my voice firm. "Please don't disrespect him."

All four of them turned to look at me. "Last _night?"_ asked Gallant. "Last night, Armsmaster brought in Lung."

I nodded. "I know. He also brought me in." The air in the base wasn't that cold, but I shivered anyway, and wrapped my arms around myself. "I took Lung on, and nearly died."

Four sets of eyes were fixed on me. "Holy shit," Vista managed. _"You_ took on _Lung?_ And _survived?"_

I nodded, and reached out to take my mask back off of Kid Win. "Yeah," I managed, past the lump in my throat. I held up the mask, so that the opening in the back was visible. "Those stains? Burnt hair. _My_ hair."

Silently, Vista squeezed me. I leaned in to her support.

Clockblocker frowned. "But wait, if your hair was burnt -"

I shrugged. "I got lucky. Panacea was there. She grew my hair back, after."

"I'm guessing your injuries were more extensive than burned hair." Gallant's voice was quiet.

"Yeah." I glanced at Clockblocker. "And the only reason – the _only_ reason – I'm sitting here is because of Armsmaster. So please don't use that nickname for him."

Clockblocker sighed. "Damn puppy-dog eyes get me every time. Okay, not using it any more. Happy?"

I smiled wanly at him. "Thanks."

Kid Win turned to me. "So how -" he began, but the question was never completed. Something blared on the computer console, and he leaped from his chair and trotted over to check on it.

"So about your favourite TV shows -" Vista began.

"Guys," cut in Kid Win. "We've got trouble. Shadow Stalker and Browbeat need assistance."

Vista rolled her eyes. "Dammit. _Every_ time."

"Aegis has been notified," Kid Win went on. "He'll meet you on the roof, Vista. You guys go ahead – it'll take me too long to put my armour on."

Gallant nodded, and turned to me. "Feel up to going out?"

I nodded, although I didn't feel anywhere near as certain as I tried to look. "Might as well get back on the bike, right?"

Clockblocker slapped me on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. Let's buzz off."

Vista gave him a disgusted look. "You've been just _waiting _for an opportunity to say that, haven't you?"

He tried to look innocent. "Who, me?"

* * *

><p><em>Sophia wasn't sure what she hated more; being in this sort of danger, or being forced to call for help. On balance, she decided that it was having to call for help that was the most distasteful; after all, she had been in many dangerous situations in her career, and had emerged from most of them unscathed.<em>

_Of course, sometimes the odds caught up with you. As they had in this case._

_She wasn't sure what Browbeat was doing; maybe growing bony plates on his arms? In any case, the newest Ward was also bulking himself out, his muscles growing with inhuman speed. Whatever it was, she hoped it was good. Against Stormtiger, they were going to need it._

_If she had been on her own, she could simply have put some distance between her and the Empire cape. But Browbeat was here, and he couldn't outdistance Stormtiger._

_Normally, this would not have been an overly problematic dilemma. But Browbeat was known to be out with her, and he had a phone too; if she simply abandoned him, he would certainly be able to notify the PRT of that fact. The reception that waited back at the base for her would certainly not be pleasant._

_When the pair encountered Stormtiger, he'd had five mooks with him. Browbeat had wanted to hang back, but Sophia had pushed in for the attack._

_It had not gone well; while she had taken down three of the mooks, and Browbeat had dealt with the other two, Stormtiger had not been idle. Sophia had taken a nasty slash on her left arm that had rendered the limb effectively useless, and Browbeat was limping._

_The shirtless man, his face covered by a blue and white tiger mask, gestured, and Sophia felt odd breezes blowing around. "Bit off more than you can chew this time, Shadow Bitch," he taunted. "Your partner's big, but size isn't everything - "_

"_Is that what you tell your girlfriend?" Browbeat broke in, trying to circle around behind the man. Stormtiger turned to face him. Sophia moved to reload the one crossbow she could use at the moment._

"_Very funny, Ward," Stormtiger sneered. "I'll be sure to repeat that joke to Kaiser when I see him next." His hand slashed down, and Browbeat tried to throw himself out of the way. He almost succeeded; the blade of air meant for his face hit his shoulder instead, and he fell sideways with a cry of pain._

_Sophia brought up the crossbow and loosed the arrow; without seeming to even look, Stormtiger reached out with a gust of wind, and caused the tranq arrow to fly wide. Another blade of air slashed out at her; she went to shadow form, and it smashed through the centre of her. It couldn't touch her, not really, but she could feel the immense kinetic force behind it. The swirl of air disrupted her as it passed through her immaterial body_

_She rolled sideways, still in shadow, and reloaded on the way. Coming back to solid form, she went to take aim -_

_- and a second blade of air slashed into her leg. She fell, trying to track him with the crossbow. Too late and too slow; he came in hard and fast, kicking at the crossbow with one booted foot. The weapon went flying, and his follow-up kick would have taken her head clean off, but for the bulky figure that tackled Stormtiger at the last instant._

_The two figures rolled over and over, then separated. They came to their feet, the Empire villain and the teenage Ward. Browbeat was unsteady on his feet, and blood ran down his arm from the wound in his shoulder, but the limb itself was still operational._

_Sophia gritted her teeth and pulled out her knife. If she could cut a bandage from her cloak -_

_A thick buzzing cloud of bugs surrounded Stormtiger, covering his face and eyes. The neo-Nazi staggered back, conjuring winds to clear them away, but more and more swarmed in. He stepped back again -_

_- and froze solid, as Clockblocker seemingly appeared out of nowhere and touched him on the back of the neck._

"_Well done," Aegis told the white-clad teen as he swooped in from above. "No other Empire capes around. Browbeat, how you doing?"_

"_Been better, sir," the bulky teen replied. "But I can fix the damage. Shadow Stalker's hurt worse than me."_

_Sophia, for her part, was looking up at the tall, skinny insect-themed cape who had stepped up to her. Bugs swarmed around the girl, and when she spoke, they added their buzzing noises to her voice._

"_Hi; the name's Buzz. I just joined. Need a hand?"_

* * *

><p>End of Part Five<p> 


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